Image from Pixabay
(1780-1845)
"A lamp is lit in woman's eyes
That souls else lost on earth,
Remember angels by."
—N. P. Willis
In Warwick, England lived a family of Quakers named Gurney. They were not "plain Quakers" at that time, which means that they did not wear plain clothes and refrain from the use of ornaments, nor did they refuse to take part in the pleasures of the world, as strict Quakers are supposed to do. The children, nevertheless, were brought up in accordance with the doctrines of the Bible, very rigidly interpreted.
Mrs. Gurney, a woman of fine education and sound judgment, instructed her little daughters in English, mathematics, literature, Latin and French, and in domestic duties. They were taught to sew and to make plain garments, to oversee the preparation of the meals, and if necessary, to do the cooking. Very great care was taken with their manners, for Mrs. Gurney believed that gentleness and polite behavior were necessary for women.
Elizabeth, the third child, born May 21, 1780, who became the famous Elizabeth Fry, was frail in health, and so nervous that she was afraid of the dark. To cure her of this, her father compelled her to go to bed without a light—a treatment that only increased her nervousness and fear. So firmly was the memory of this severe punishment fixed in the child's mind that, when she married and had children of her own, she never permitted any method of discipline that tended to cause fear.
Elizabeth had not a tractable disposition but was inclined to be willful, obstinate, and opinionated. Even as a child, she would act independently. This pronounced trait in her character, so objectionable in youth, enabled her in later years to do many things worthwhile, in the face of unreasonable opposition.
Her mother died when Elizabeth was twelve years old. As she grew older, she gradually broke loose from her Quaker training and began to think more about dress and adornments; she even learned to dance, and enjoyed going into society. But, while enjoying these pleasures, she all the while realized that she was not really happy. Then she tried to find out the reason. She went among the poor and helped them, but this was no more than all Quakers did. She feared that she was becoming more and more satisfied with the light, pleasant, easy things of life, while the great and good things that might be done ever haunted her, and called to her to regard them.
At this time a traveling Quaker preacher named William Savery, a man of great force and a powerful and compelling speaker came over from America. He addressed a meeting of Friends which the Gurney sisters attended, including Elizabeth, all sitting in a row on the women's side in the Meeting-House. These young girls wore some ornaments and were more elaborately dressed than the other Quaker girls. When the speaker touched on this matter of adornment and in a gentle, tender voice pleaded for the customs of the plain Quakers, Elizabeth was much affected; all her pleasures seemed to her sinful, and she wept bitterly.
Afterward, she had long talks with William Savery, in the course of which, it is said, he prophesied her future. His words changed Elizabeth utterly; she cared no more for the world and its pleasures.
Her father, to test the genuineness of her conversion, induced her to visit friends in London who lived in the midst of gaiety. There, she attended the theater, but was not interested; she danced, but found it dreary; she played cards, but was wearied. All the enjoyments of former times failed to satisfy her. She returned home, and after several months spent in meditation, finally came to the conclusion that, for her at least, those things were wrong; that, for her, life held more important duties. She then gave up all amusements, began to use the "thee" and "thou" of the strict sect, adopted the close cap and plain kerchief of the Quakeress, and preached at meetings.
Once her mind had cleared, she never wavered in the belief that her life must be devoted to works of charity. She began by opening a school for poor children. She was only nineteen, very youthful-looking, and very pretty. Everybody wondered how she could govern this school of seventy wild street-children, who had never before known restraint.
While she was occupied with this school, a young Quaker from London, named Joseph Fry, fell in love with her and proposed marriage. At first, Elizabeth thought she could not accept Joseph's offer; that to marry would interfere with her plans. But the young man was deeply interested in benevolent work, himself, and had sufficient means to assist her in her projects.
So they were married at Norwich, and later their home at St. Mildred's Court, London, became a meeting place for Quakers from all parts of the world. Instead of card-games and dancing for their entertainment, the visitors in this house heard discussions of plans for the formation of poorhouses, schools, and hospitals for the poor.
In 1809, Elizabeth's father died; and on her knees by his bedside, Elizabeth again vowed to devote her life to the service of God. She now lived in Plashet, Essex, the country seat of her husband's family. With growing children of her own about her and great numbers of guests, one might suppose that she had all she could possibly do. Nevertheless, she found time to open a girls' school for street-children, to organize a soup kitchen, a drug-store, and a library for them, while in her own home she kept a collection of clothes of all sorts with which to clothe them.
When this enterprise was well established and the poor people about her made comfortable, Mrs. Fry turned her attention to the great prison at Newgate, London, where conditions were reported to be shocking. In company with officials and a party of friends, she made her first visit, in 1813. They found things much worse than they had been led to believe.
Mrs. Fry at once determined to reform prison life. Illness in the family delayed this project for nearly three years, but the idea never left her until at last the work was begun. The life of the prisoners in Newgate, and in all prisons at that time, was too harrowing to be here described.
The public listened to her reports, was properly shocked, but scoffed at the bare idea of Elizabeth Fry as a reformer. For a woman to attempt such work was absurd! Mrs. Fry paid no attention to what was said but went straight ahead. She began by establishing a school for the prisoners' children and gave the wretched women prisoners work for which they were paid. Before this, being idle, they had spent their time quarreling, fighting, and gambling; now, when they could earn a little money, their behavior began to improve.
Soon Parliament took an interest in this work, ordering an investigation. When the wonderful reforms she had accomplished became known, Mrs. Fry was the most famous woman in England. Queen Victoria expressed a desire to become acquainted with her, and a meeting was arranged which has been described as follows:
Her Majesty's small figure, her dress ablaze with diamonds, her courtesy, and kindness as she spoke to the now celebrated Quakeress, who stood outwardly calm in the costume of her creed and just a little flushed with the unwonted excitement, attracted universal homage. The two women spoke, and cheer after cheer went up from the crowd gathered about.
The Court learned that day that there was in goodness and benevolence something better than fashion and nobler than rank.
Mrs. Fry's work for the poor and unfortunate took her to the prisons of many lands, and everywhere honors were bestowed upon her. She died at the age of sixty, October 13, 1845.
Finish